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016 - The Lazy Wife · Manx Fairy Tales

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  Speaker 1: Chapter fifteen of Manx Fairy Tales. This is a librifox recording.
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  Speaker 1: All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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  Speaker 1: information or to volunteer, please visit librifox dot org. Recording
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  Speaker 1: by Phone Manx Fairy Tales by Sophia Morrison. The Lazy Wife, Well,
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  Speaker 1: there was a woman once, and she was scandalous lazy.
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  Speaker 1: She was that lazy. She would do nothing but sit
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  Speaker 1: in the corner of the chullock, warming herself, or going
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  Speaker 1: on the houses for newses the day long. And one
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  Speaker 1: day her man gives her some wool to spin for him.
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  Speaker 1: He was terrible, badly off for clothes to wear, for
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  Speaker 1: she was letting them get all ragged on him. He
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  Speaker 1: had told her to mend them until he was tired,
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  Speaker 1: but all he could get out of her was tredieu
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  Speaker 1: time enough. One day he comes to her and says, thou, licky,
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  Speaker 1: mi fla, here is some wool for thee to spin,
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  Speaker 1: and if it is not done a month from this day,
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  Speaker 1: I'll throw thee out on the side of the road.
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  Speaker 1: Thou and I tready long have left me nearly bare. Well,
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  Speaker 1: she was too lazy to spin, but she would be
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  Speaker 1: pretending to be working hard when the husband was in
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  Speaker 1: the house. She used to put the wheel out on
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  Speaker 1: the floor every night before the husband came in from work,
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  Speaker 1: so let on to him that she had been spinning.
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  Speaker 1: The husband was asking her was the thread getting near spun,
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  Speaker 1: for he said he was seeing the wheel so often
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  Speaker 1: on the floor that he wanted to know if she
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  Speaker 1: had enough to take to the weaver. When it came
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  Speaker 1: to the last week but one, she had only one
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  Speaker 1: ball spun, and that one was knotted and as coarse
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  Speaker 1: as course. When her husband says to her, I'm seeing
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  Speaker 1: the wheel middling often on the floor when I come
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  Speaker 1: home at night. Maybe there's enough thread spun at thee
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  Speaker 1: now for me to take to the weaver next week.
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  Speaker 1: I don't know at all, says thee Maybe there is.
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  Speaker 1: Let us count the balls. Then the play began up.
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  Speaker 1: She went on the lout and flung the ball through
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  Speaker 1: the hole down to him. Keep count thyself and fling
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  Speaker 1: the balls back again to me, says she to the man.
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  Speaker 1: And as fast as he flung the ball up to her,
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  Speaker 1: so fast she flung it down to him again. When
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  Speaker 1: he had counted the ball maybe two score times, she
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  Speaker 1: says to him, that's all that's in. Ah deed, you
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  Speaker 1: spun well, woman for all, says he. There's plenty done
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  Speaker 1: at thee for the weaver. All then, she was in
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  Speaker 1: a great fix and didn't know in her senses what
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  Speaker 1: to do to save herself. She knew she would sup
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  Speaker 1: sorrow if she was found out, but she could think
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  Speaker 1: of nothing. At last, she bethought herself of the giant
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  Speaker 1: that lived in a lonesome place up the mountain. For
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  Speaker 1: she had heard tell he was good to work and
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  Speaker 1: the woman, she says to herself, I've a mind to
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  Speaker 1: go my wayte to him. She took the road early
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  Speaker 1: next morning, she and her rolls of wool, and she
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  Speaker 1: walked up hills down gills, till at last she came
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  Speaker 1: to the giant's house. What art thou wanting here, says
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  Speaker 1: the giant. I'm wanting thee to help me, says she,
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  Speaker 1: And she up and told him about the ball of
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  Speaker 1: thread and everything. I'll spin the wool for thee, says
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  Speaker 1: the giant, if thou'll tell me my name when thou
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  Speaker 1: comfort the balls a week from this day, art thou satisfied?
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  Speaker 1: Why shouldn't I be satisfied, says the woman, for she
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  Speaker 1: thought to herself it would be a middling queer thing
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  Speaker 1: if she couldn't find out his name within a week. Well,
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  Speaker 1: the woman, she tried every way to find out the
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  Speaker 1: giant's name, but go where she might, no one had
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  Speaker 1: ever heard tell of it. The time was getting over fast,
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  Speaker 1: and she was no nearer to the giant's name. At
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  Speaker 1: last it came to the last day but one now.
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  Speaker 1: As it happened, the husband was coming home from the
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  Speaker 1: mountain that day in the little evening, and as he
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  Speaker 1: neared the giant's house, he saw it all in a
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  Speaker 1: blaze of light, and there was a great whirling and
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  Speaker 1: whistling coming to his ears, and along with it came
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  Speaker 1: singing and laughing and shouting. So he drew near the window.
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  Speaker 1: And then he sees the big giant inside, sitting at
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  Speaker 1: a wheel, spinning like the wind, and his hands flying
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  Speaker 1: with a thread to and fro to and fro like
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  Speaker 1: the lightning, and he shouting to the whistling wheel, spin, wheel,
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  Speaker 1: spin faster, and sing, wheel sing louder, and he sings
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  Speaker 1: as the wheel worlds faster and faster. Schnow, Quel, Schnow,
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  Speaker 1: Then Quel run the troli clear ery t schnee ye
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  Speaker 1: miskin lish in nolan liam sichnee specch in fed litrek
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  Speaker 1: de re in moullindrote me enim spin wheel, spin, sing weel,
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  Speaker 1: sing every beam on the house, spin overhead. Herself is
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  Speaker 1: the wool, mine is the thread. How little she knows,
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  Speaker 1: the lazy wife that my name is molindrote. When the
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  Speaker 1: husband got home that evening, he was late, and his
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  Speaker 1: wife said to him, where have you been so late?
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  Speaker 1: Did thou hear anything new? Then he said, thou art
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  Speaker 1: middling good to spin thyself lendy. But I'm thinking there's
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  Speaker 1: one inn that's better than thee for all, never in
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  Speaker 1: all my born days that I see such spinning a
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  Speaker 1: thread as fine as a cobweb, and hears such singing
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  Speaker 1: as there was going on in the Giant's house to night.
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  Speaker 1: What was he singing? Says the wife, And he sang
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  Speaker 1: the song to her. She knew quill shnou. Then quill
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  Speaker 1: ran the troli clea eri t snee miskin lich in
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  Speaker 1: nolan liam snee spec fistek in fed litric in molindrote
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  Speaker 1: mi enim. Well, well the joy the woman took when
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  Speaker 1: she heard the song, Ah, what sweet music. Sing it again,
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  Speaker 1: my good man, says she, and he sang it to
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  Speaker 1: her again till she knew it by heart. Early next morning,
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  Speaker 1: she went as fast as her feet could carry her
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  Speaker 1: to the Giant's house. The road was long and a
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  Speaker 1: bit lonesome under the trees, and to keep up her heart,
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  Speaker 1: she sang to herself, snoo chu shnou qui shnou lichuli
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  Speaker 1: vangan elie villi shnu miskin sleshine in nolan as lesh
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  Speaker 1: miihene is snai sonchen molnrode cha vao at spin wheel spin,
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  Speaker 1: spin wheel spin, Every branch on the tree spin overhead.
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  Speaker 1: The wool is himselves. The thread is my own, for
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  Speaker 1: old Mullindroat will never get it. When she got to
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  Speaker 1: the house, she found the door open before her, and
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  Speaker 1: in she went. I've come again for the thread, says she. Icy,
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  Speaker 1: icy good woman, says the giant. If they don't tell
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  Speaker 1: me my name, that I won't get the thread. That
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  Speaker 1: was the bargain, and says he, Now, what's my name?
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  Speaker 1: Is it? Molirea, says she to let on that she
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  Speaker 1: didn't know it. No it is not, says he. Are
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  Speaker 1: you one of the molioei Ones, says she. I am
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  Speaker 1: not one of that clan, says he. Are they calling
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  Speaker 1: you Mollivriddri, says she. They are not, says he. I'll
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  Speaker 1: warrant your name is Molly Chaste, says she. You are wrong, though,
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  Speaker 1: says he. Are you going by the name of Molly Voi,
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  Speaker 1: says she, deed, I'm not, says he. Maybe your name
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  Speaker 1: is Molly Vartune, says she. And maybe it's not at all,
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  Speaker 1: says he. They're saying, says she. That there was only
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  Speaker 1: seven families living on the island at one time, and
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  Speaker 1: their names all began with Molly, and so says she.
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  Speaker 1: If you are not a Molly Karaine, you are none
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  Speaker 1: of the real old manx Ones at all. I am
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  Speaker 1: not a Molly Karaine, says he. Now be careful, woman,
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  Speaker 1: next guest is your last, and that she pretended to
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  Speaker 1: be frightened, and says she slowly pointing her finger at him.
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  Speaker 1: In olan As Isnae Snchen Molin wrote caval Et de Bras,
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  Speaker 1: the wool is himselves and the thread is my own.
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  Speaker 1: For old Molein wrote, will never get it well. The
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  Speaker 1: giant he was done, and he was in a red rage,
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  Speaker 1: and he cries, bad luck to you. You never would
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  Speaker 1: have found out my name unless you're a mummick ing Eichne.
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  Speaker 1: Bad luck to yourself, my boy, says she, for trying
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  Speaker 1: to steal a dacent woman's wool. Go to the devil
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  Speaker 1: yourself and your fortune, telling, shouts he jumping up and
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  Speaker 1: flinging the balls at her, and away home with her
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  Speaker 1: and her balls of thread. And if she didn't spin
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  Speaker 1: her own wool forever after, that's nothing to do with
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  Speaker 1: you and me. End of chapter fifteen,